"You and I will fly later," He promised his big brown dragon Roketh.
Bring me back something, the dragon bespoke, with a chuckling rumble from the weyr.
Of course he would get something. Perhaps a weyrmate, perhaps just a new riding strap leather or even just a new paddle for his skin oil.
M'rgan went down and loved being in the throng of people. He watched one or two of the races, wishing with all his heart that he did still have the time to race or even ride at all. But as a dragon rider, he couldn't keep a runner anywhere near his weyr: it would get eaten.
Then, M'rgan saw a stand which had an odd thing to be selling, fire lizard eggs! He grudgingly paid the man an obscene amount of marks for the oddly dark orange colored egg...
With wide eyes, M'rgan watched as the egg began to break open.
"Ye'd best get some meat, to feed it!" Called out the vendor, and M'rgan muscled his way through the crowd still holding the egg in his one huge hand, while bellowing at the top of his lungs for a meatroll for his new flit! Someone actually threw him a piece of cold wherry, and he thanked them while turning around so most people wouldn't be able to take this little flit he'd paid so much for as it hatched.
I have watched this through you, brown Roketh bespoke, what is it? It is very interesting!
It's a fire lizard, your distant cousin. But I've never seen one with wings one color, and a body another! He is very beautiful, don't you think?
He is small! Will he get big?
"Not as big as you," M'rgan laughed out loud, as people stared at him, then realized that here was a dragon rider!
When he'd gotten back into his weyr, Roketh demanded to see the little brown flit.
He is pretty. What are you calling him?
"I don't know, Roketh, he hasn't done anything yet. I'm tempted to call him lazy!"
Just then, the fire lizard sprang to life. He swooped into the air, and went outside the weyr. M'rgan was distressed, after all he'd just paid three and a half marks for that flit! But then, he saw the silohette of the fire lizard cross the dim orange of one of the moons. Then, it came right back and landed comfortably on Roketh's head.
"Moonsweep," M'rgan said, "that's his name!"
